


Arcana Monster AU - Linear Julian

by TheCobraOfHell



Series: The Arcana Monster AU [1]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Egg Laying, Fluff, Human/Monster Romance, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mild Gore, Monsters, Multi, Oviposition, Pregnant Sex, Shorts, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 14:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 7,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16855978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCobraOfHell/pseuds/TheCobraOfHell
Summary: Follow your romance with Monster Julian, a feathery creature who found kindness and love despite his past agonies.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Monster Anatomy: Julian’s basic body shapes were based off of the hanged man, but I made more changes than that. I associate him more to that of a kenku, a bird creature with feathers that is bipedal but does not have wings. A great amount of plumage around the throat, he has a few scars from when he was chained up and left to starve, and unlike the hanged man he very rarely stands straight, usually crouching. His right eye, instead of the one, is a cluster of quite a few of them. )

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You find a chained up bird monster and decide to free him out of the kindness of your heart. Little did you know that this was the start of a blossoming romance.

You approach him despite the rolling shudders down your spine. Everyone said he was dangerous, a monster, a murderer- and he surely looked like it. Blood was stuck on feathers upon feathers, and his chest heaved rapidly with desperate, carnal breaths. Every now and then, he crooned a horribly gnarly sound, a mix like that of a bird and a wolf. He struggled against the chains that held him, claws scraping into the bark of the tree he was bound against. Sentenced to death- he was supposed to starve here out in the forest, or be picked away by the wildlife. 

But it was cruel. 

Who had he killed? What had he done? From what you saw, the blood on him came from the wounds dug in by the chains. No bodies were found from his claws or beak- they were all assumptions. You had not seen a single instance that clearly pinned him as the suspect. It was just him being himself that made him guilty. 

“Shh- shh…” You hold out a tentative hand along with the whispers, hoping that he’d calm down. He catches brief glimpses of your outstretched hand and lunges as far as he can, trying to intimidate you in leaving. Although you falter, you don’t leave. He needs help. “It’s okay, don’t be afraid of me- I’m going to help you…”

When your hand finds one of the chains, trained right along his breastbone, he croons again, this time with agony. He doesn’t snap, even when you tug experimentally on the chain and it tugs back, holding him tight. It wouldn’t be that simple- of course it wouldn’t. 

You find the padlock that held the chains, nothing too special, the usual you’d find at any prison cell or security hold. You hold it fast, the warmth of your palms growing exponentially as you concentrate your magic through it. It cracks suddenly, making harsh snaps until the bolt inside breaks and it falls apart. You still have to be tender though, slowly pulling the rusted chains away from his body. He must have been there for a while for the chains had dug deep into his flesh until feathers and skin had torn. They left deep wounds in his body, painful and sore, and it made your yearn to help him more. Perhaps later-

You continue to pull the chains until they are all free, letting them clamber to the ground in a bloody pile. He hadn’t moved this entire time, weakly breathing with only small trembles of what you could assume was pain. You wait for a while, to see what he might do. Perhaps run away- you thought he might have done that, but he didn’t. 

He moved then, slowly and shakily, sitting away from the tree and giving hushed, questioning chirps. At least he could still make noise. You smiled a small smile, again reaching out towards him. Just as you were about to touch his beak, he jerks away, feathers puffing out agitation. 

“Sorry- sorry…” you whisper to him gently, respecting his space and withdrawing your hand. You are silent then, watching as he seems to look around curiously, wondering. You notice now that his face is covered, what you once thought were eyes were actually goggles, one of them cracked from a probable, previous scuffle. “They won’t come after you now- they think you’re dead.”

He looks back at you, lifting his head slightly. You can see the slight glint of his eyes behind those goggles. Your hands lift up slightly, pausing once you see his shoulders tense in apprehension. “Can- Can I see your eyes?” You’ve got to know, you need to know if he did what everyone says he did. His shoulders sag after a moment, and you take that as consent, slowly taking a hold of the goggles and pulling them away. 

He takes a rapid breath, looking away from your intent expression. His eyes are bright, a shimmering silver, with one on the left side of his face and then several on the other side. The pseudo-eyes blink after the main one, mimicking its gaze for the most part. You find them inherently interesting, but that’s not what you care about right in that moment. Looking at him now, eyes naked to your judgement, you realize it fully. He is innocent. 

“You didn’t do it, did you?” He tweets curiously, looking back at you with those bright eyes. “You’re innocent- they just didn’t like you, they wanted someone to hate…” 

When you reach out this time he doesn’t pull away, letting you hold his beak affectionately. Tears slowly form in his eyes the longer you hold him, soon pouring down his cheeks and beak as his chest constricts with sobs. “Shh- shh it’s okay, you’re okay now. You’re okay, I’ve got you…”

His sounds now are similar to a wounded chicken, weak, whimpering caws. They only die once you press your lips along the curve of his beak, down to soft chirping noises. You don’t know if there’s any other way you can help him, but you want to try.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the road to recovery for our dear bird husband.

You were right, he was fascinating. It wasn’t just that he had feathers and multiple eyes, although you did find that intriguing, you cared more about how he acted. Despite everything he’d gone through, with the being hunted and chained and out there to die, it only took a couple days for him to actually become social with you.

You brought him home that day, to the small shop where you occasionally read tarot cards. It had been after smuggling him down the streets, under drapes of extra clothing, that he found himself there and instantly scampered into the reading room, hiding underneath the table you use for your tarot readings. You were okay with it though- he needed time to cope after all.

And that time was approximately three days.

After three days, he gave small entrances. You could hear him from a mile away with how loud his talons clicked against the floorboards, but you gave him the satisfaction of sneaking around without you knowing. He found great interest in your shelves, observing the bottles filled with liquids, sediments, and plant life alike. He would take them off the shelf, roll them in his talons and watch as the contents shifted inside- but he was never aggressive and never made a mess, always gently setting them back in the spot he found them.

It was surprising for the most part. You had been brought up thinking monsters were always ravenous and unabashed, but he seemed to take great care in your own space.

After five days, he finally came face to face with you. You found it somewhat humorous at first. His frame, at least at the shoulders, was rather large- so seeing him bowed in front of you in timid peering was interesting to say the least. He shuffled on his claws, slowly lifting one of his arms to show you the still rotting cuts left from the chains.

It took you all but two minutes to gather everything you needed to help him.

As you cleaned out the numerous wounds with distilled water and occasional soap, he watched, unblinking and with a firm stare. You almost felt as though he were judging you, taking each of your actions to near personal offense. Even when you had sewn up the deeper cuts, treating him with the greatest of tenderness you could summon, he seemed to still be heavy with harshness.

You didn’t blame him though. Those people had victimized him, beaten and thrown him out for dead, for something that he couldn’t completely comprehend. Or could he? Did he know monsters were disliked? Did he have that mental capability? It brought up even more questions, like did he have morality or questions, did he have deep wishes and desires?

“There you go…” He flexes his arms experimentally, strangely not even grimacing from the pain he no doubt felt. You watch with interest as he inspects your work, the tip of his beak nudging along the clumps of feathers and tender flesh. Throughout the time he had been here you had not seen him eat, so you offer, “Do you want some food? I can make something you might like…”

You didn’t know why you thought he could speak back or even comprehend you, but it was second nature to just talk to him. But he does respond, lifting his head and blinking up at you with a tittering caw. That was probably a yes, at least you took it as such, and became even more convinced when he hopped up and followed you to the little kitchenette. You manage to roast some nuts and present it to him along with a few handfuls of berries. Along with it, you pour out some water and stir in a spoonful of sugar, hoping the extra sweetness would give him back some energy.

It’s interesting to watch him. You’d expect a bird to peck at the bits of food and even struggle getting it off the plate- but he’s more civilized than that. He sniffs with intrigue before plucking up individual pieces and eating it gratefully. You watch him eat in silence, taking note of small squeaks he occasionally makes. Eventually, he bristles and looks back at you, tilting his head questionably.

“I’m sorry- I…” You stutter, realizing you’ve probably made him feel uncomfortable. “I shouldn’t stare, that’s really rude. I just- you’re just…” What were you trying to say even? He was staring at you, as though actually waiting to hear the rest of your sentence. “Really cool…”

Almost instantly, the creature sputters and gives light, airy croons. The heave of his chest makes him look like- no- he was laughing, actually laughing. He could understand you, every word, and you probably sounded like an idiot. Your cheeks flushed pink, completely embarrassed by how dumb you must have sounded to him. After his bout of caws, he looked back at you with calm adoration, big, black framed eyes observing you with interest. You stare back at him, giving a small smile back. He leans forward suddenly, a bit too quick for your liking in all honesty, and presses the curve of his beak just under your chin.

In an instant, the gesture is gone and he goes back to gently eating the food you’ve made him. You’re not too sure what the gesture meant to him, but to you it felt something near to kinship.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Ilya's personality begins to shine.

He was trying to make your life a living hell- and you knew it. All you wanted to do was cook, was that too much to ask? The answer was a yes, yes that was way too much to ask. 

He’d gotten crafty. Those once loud and clamorous talons had learned to be stifled, where you could only rely on the bristling of the hairs on your neck to tell you he might be approaching. You felt that happen as you poured in a handful of pine nuts into the skillet along with a few spices and broth. “Ilya… you better not be rummaging- I need those…”

That bristling grew more harsh, and you spun around to find nothing behind you. Dammit- he did it again. Just as you turned, you saw the bowl of pine nuts you once had with you gone. Of course- fooled again- but at least you knew exactly where he was. 

In the reading room, under the tarot card table, he was huddled around the bowl and snacking on the nuts like candy. Once you popped your head under the cloth, he stopped mid bite, peering back at you with a mockingly innocent chirp. “Give me the nuts- you want them cooked right?”

He cawed back, caressing the bowl and keeping it from you. 

“Oh! You prefer them raw now?” He made another noise, like a firm yes, and continued to hog the bowl. You shook your head, finally getting onto your knees and crawling down there with him. You grab the bowl, hard, bringing a loud squawk from him. “Ah-ah, nope, they’re my nuts, Ilya!”

Anyone else would have seen the struggle as frightening, or you’d assume so, but his little squawks and caws clued you in that he found this absolutely delightful. That, and nearly every other night he’d be back at it with stealing your ingredients (although half of the time you did catch him, but today wasn’t one of those days). So, you didn’t hold back, tugging hard on the bowl, only to have him tug back equally hard, and rolling the pine nuts in the center boisterously. 

But one hard pull had it flying, hitting the underside of the table and flinging nuts in all direction. Both you and him yelped upon being pelted in nuts, soon delving into a pit of laughter at the ridiculous situation. You watched as Ilya soon began plucking up individual nuts and popping them into his mouth, still giving small laughs at the situation. 

After he popped a few more into his mouth, he began collecting them instead, craddling a small pile against his chest. You helped him from there, picking up nuts within your reach and tossing them into the pile. 

It took quite a good chunk of time to collect all of them, and once that was done, you got back to cooking. He seemed to know exactly what to do to redeem himself in times like these, having put the pine nuts back in the bowl and approaching you instead as you hovered over the stove. 

Things were peaceful then, with you roasting up nuts and vegetables while Ilya provided you whatever spices you murmured. Every now and then, he tilted up, pressing his beak under your chin in sweet nuzzles that you found simply adorable. Sure- he was a ruckus, but he made up for it with moments like these, and you were excited to do the same thing tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares make their presence known, but at least Ilya has you to turn to.

You laid in bed with a sigh. These last few nights had been difficult, filled with rambunctious bird exploration along with the continual need to read cards. For some reason, Ilya had been sleeping substantially less, waking up in the early morning to croon loudly till you woke. At first, you didn’t know why, but then you realized it was from the nightmares. During one of these nights, when you had yet to fall asleep, you saw the poor guy huddled under the tarot table in sleep. His body convulsed with hard, shaky breaths and the occasional caw of agony. You hated hearing him in so much pain. 

So you stalled in actually sleeping, knowing full well that he would shake himself out of a nightmare in due time. And of course he did, after only few hours into the night. He sounded as though he were weeping, whining like a cat under your tarot table. You approached him gently, shaking him awake with a gentle hand on his plummage. When he reacted properly, big eyes peering up at you, you tugged him out from underneath the table. “You need to stop sleeping there, Ilya… come on…”

It took continual coaxing to pull him with you, down into your collection of blankets and pillows, and even more to make sure he stayed there. It wouldn’t keep him asleep, but you hoped that whatever sleep he did get would be more fulfilling here. 

He soon settled, his beak tucking under your chin whilst his taloned hands reached to grab your sides. The two of you had been close like this before, but not in bed and certainly not with this level of affection. Your hands buried into the plumage of his chest, feeling through the feathers until you felt the softer downy ones. A soft titter comes from his throat and exhales through him, and he gives a small shimmy under your touch. When you pay closer attention, you see his chest tightening as he gives intentional caws. “Luu- Luu You-”

You have to tilt your head back to see him properly, tilting your head at him questioningly. He bobs his head back, repeating the small phrase to the best of his ability. He soon finds that it doesn’t do much, especially since you can’t understand him well. He suffices this by nudging his beak into your chin several times, not stopping until you kiss the top of his beak back. “Mm- I think I get it. And I feel the same way.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilya begins to impress you with his form of a mating ritual.

It took you a while to- well- get it. He started a collection for you of rocks that he found pretty. You made a shelf for them, displaying each one that he found, although you found them to be oddly beautiful despite the blank grey and ruggedness. He pecked them once on their shelves, making the entire thing collapsed, and you nearly cried until you found out why he had. Upon inspecting closer, one of the stones had cracked in half with the inside glowing magnificently. He had collected geodes for you, and you found it to be a sweet parallel to your connection with him. 

This had been a big seed to sprout your suspicion, but the week after that sealed it. You came back from the market to see him no where in sight and climbed the stairs to your bedroom where he had slept with you for the last month. That’s where you found him, holding up one blanket to act as a drapery for the window. He seemed to have decorated the entire place, making an intricate nest out of blankets and pillows with a big indent in the middle, big enough for two people. Usually, you would have thought this was adorable or cute, but it stirred something else as well. 

He squawked loudly, hoping down from a table he was once perched on to approached you. Eager hands pulled you deeper into the room, tugging until you were both huddled close in the nest he made. He looked back at you once you both sat, eagerly awaiting to see what you’d say. Did you like it? You smiled, laying back into the fabrics. “This is really sweet of you, Ilya. Did you do this all for me?” He instantly bobs his head, feathers puffing out and swelling in pride. “You are so considerate, love.”

Ilya nudges closer to you, grabby hands at your stomach and head bowing to bury his beak under your chin in a bird kiss. You knew now that this was his way of kissing, figuring that it was just a natural thing that birds did. You kissed him back, tilting his beak up just enough to nose under it. This brought a trill from him, a few chattering laughs prominent. The collection of small laughs between you made it easy to lay back with him hovering slightly over you. 

His talons were gentle, scratching into your clothes in curious desperation to tug them off while his beak gave continua presses under your jaw. You got lost with his touch, allowing him to strip you to bare flesh within seconds. His talons took great care in keeping your skin free of scratches as he parted your bare thighs, soon marveling over your softened flesh. A few curious squeezes made you giggle, tickled by the light touches of his talons- and he laughed back, feathers puffing out just a bit more. This would probably take a lot of exploration…


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exploring each other's bodies for the first time.

It was amazing what you took for granted. Like- having featherless, smooth skin or nimble fingers. Ilya looked you over for the third time, his taloned fingers gliding over your skin in supreme care to not scratch you. Over the months you’ve known him, he has not once nicked your skin with them despite being so sharp. Instead of leaving scratches, they make your skin tremble in goosebumps. 

Your fingers bury into feathers in turn, down to the softer, downy ones- they’re your favorite. As you stroke the very fine feathers, you hear the starts of small coos in his frame, much lower than what you’re used to. His entire body seems to heat up under your skin, spurred on more and more by the close proximity that you share. “Are you okay with this…?” You asked softly, feeling as though things were starting to get a bit too intense. 

Ilya perks up and gives a small croon. His beak nudges the underside of your jaw while his talons hooked again, tugging your shirt upward. He coaxes it off, replacing the lost warmth with his hands. He still takes the utmost care of you, careful not to scratch or harm your delicate skin. You touch him in turn, going down his chest until you find the soft feathers on his stomach. The muscle underneath is hardened, built up from survival over countless years, and feels amazing under your fingers. 

He suddenly trills, shaking once your feel stops at his hips. You falter, wondering if you had done something wrong until you see the flex of his legs crossing over one another. Before you can ask, you catch glimpse of a tentacle curling hard against his abdomen. He shies away from you, perhaps out of embarrassment at the lack of control he had, but you don’t feel any shyness eating at you. To spare him the eating embarrassment, you wrap a hand around the writhing appendage. 

Ilya immediately croons, beak tilting hard into your jaw as you slowly stroke his bulge. You marvel at the way it curls against the tips of your fingers, becoming more active and nimble the more you touch it. And he gets spurred onward, talons scratching hard into your pants with very eager nudges of his beak. You have to stop him briefly, if only a moment to whisper, “Let’s go slow- at least for a while, hun…”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to explore what Ilya has to offer, and by that I mean his bulge and cloaca of course.

Your touch gives off the light feeling of curiousness and gentleness, one that Ilya had been giving you these many many months. If someone asked you a year ago if you could see yourself jerking off a bird- you would have said ‘eh, maybe’. 

But here you were, slowly stroking the writhing tentacle between his legs and watching for any change of heart. He didn’t seem to have any ounce of it, head tilted back and beak parted for shuddery, airy caws. His eyes had closed long ago, allowing himself to melt into your exploratory touches. He seems to appreciate everything you provide, the soft pads of your fingers doing wonders for the ridges of your cock. 

You lean in close, silent despite your own gentle, heavy breaths of arousal. Rubbing your legs together doesn’t help your own warmth, but kissing the seam where his beak meets his skull helps a little. Your kisses continue, mixed between feathered skin and smooth beak. You can’t help the poke of your tongue, trailing up the underside of his beak. He makes the softest sound, letting it linger as your hand squeezes him delicately. 

He moves suddenly, lifting his legs and letting them slide open. At first, you think this is just to give you more room to snuggle closer. You shuffle in, taking your place between his thighs before realizing another plus to this. He’s warm too, a layer of feathers covering his cloaca now wet and opened eagerly for you. This is all too much to handle- you feel like you might lose yourself in him. For a first time though, you had to remain composed as to not deter him. 

Your other hand is much more hesitant. You’ve officially claimed his bulge, but his cloaca is another story. You bury your other hand into the soft feathers just above his knee, massaging into the very built up muscle there for a long moment. He becomes slowly soothed, a part of him knowing what your plan is and only partially nervous to see you actually do it. So you move further down, stroking down to the soft under feathers with the tips of your fingers, but you pause once you meet the end of his hip. 

Ilya sucks in a breath, bulge stiffening in your grip and entire body stalled in anticipation. You don’t let it stick for too long, resuming with slow presses onto his hole. He gives the most built up reaction yet, actually squawking once your fingers very slowly press in. He doesn’t push you away, instead, talons grabbing hard onto your shoulders and tugging you closer. You ease your fingers in deeper, slipping in until the second knuckle before pulling back just as slowly. 

He whines with each press inward, giving small rolls of his hips and hard squeezes of your hand with his bulge. It grows more wet with what you assume is precum, letting your hand slip against it with more ease. You wonder if he’s close and continue to press kisses across his beak and whisper soothingly, “Are you close?”

Ilya doesn’t answer with words, following your curling fingers for another moment before giving a prolonged whine. You feel him squeeze around your fingers and bulge grow stiff in your palm before trails of cum drip down over your fingers. 

You pull your hands back but remain close to him, making sure that he settles down well. You don’t know what you expected him to do right after, but suddenly he’s on you, beak tight under your chin as feathers tickled your thighs. It’s your turn now.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The teaser to actual intercourse with our dear Ilya.

You and him had screwed around before, never going further than just exploring each other’s bodies and feeling each other up and down. You were mostly pleased with that, although always harboring that feeling of wanting to experience just a little bit more. When you thread your fingers into his feathers this time, he seems to catch onto it and tilts his beak up into the curve of your jaw. You’d been kissing him over and over, fingers caressing him in just the right way to make him stir in desire. Already, his bulge had made itself known, coiled tight against his abdomen, and you wanted more than to just feel it in your palm. 

“Ilya…” He perks up when you murmur his name, summoning a soft croon in question. As he stares up at you, you wrap your fingers along his squirming length, stroking it gently to prepare him. He gives continual, soft croons, hips twitching up into your grip. He’s come so far since you first met him- once nearly frightful of being touched, to being alright with hand shaking, to hugs, to this and then… “Would you like to do more? Touch more?”

He didn’t seem to exactly know what you mean. He straightened himself better, tilting his head as though asking you to continue. You became somewhat bashful, unsure if you wanted to say for sure. Instead of words, you crawled over him more, nudging your hips closer to his until his could barely breach you. He seems to catch what you mean then, blinking back up at you before giving a soft nod. 

So you bring yourself closer, nudging your hips down until the arch of his bulge strokes your wet entrance. He lingers, a sigh pressing out of his nose with his own pleased noises. It writhes against you, seemingly exploring before the tip finally probes and slips inside with ease. 

It’s tappering start spreads you open with ease, easily filling you with half of it before you have to stop. At least he looks equally as flustered, eyes closed and beak drawn open in heavy breaths. But he stills for you, talons gently clawing at your exposed hips and sides. You know a part of him wants to claw hard, take you in some hurried frenzy, but you appreciate his restraint. Perhaps that could happen another time.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh you want monster Ilya's babies? I'll give you monster Ilya's babies.

You studied birds for a while, reading every article you could about them and about why he was this way. 

He didn’t have to flatter you anymore- he already had your heart. Yet he continued singing soft tunes whenever you entered the room, collected geodes or other things you found pretty, and bobbed his head in an imaginary rhythm- those were all courting techniques, right?

But then he started pressing into your back. Like a massage, whenever you were busy cooking or brewing or even just relaxing, Ilya would approach you and nudge the arch of his beak into your spine. It didn’t hurt, obviously, but it made your gut warm and heart fluttery for some reason. The more he did it the more the small tickles of arousal ached in you, hell, even got you wet. Was he trying to do this?

Oh yes- yes he was. 

It all added up, from the nest building to the affectionate twinge to the baby birds you took in. You realized it quickly after some intense thought- he wanted offspring… and with you out of any other monster or human. Although knowing that he trusted you and only you with such a promise made you feel special- it made you feel something else. 

Absolutely horny. 

You thought about it nearly every day, reflecting on the feeling of carrying his babies. Would you lay eggs? Would you swell with them before laying? Oh god- and how would it feel? When he went out and perched to sing, you couldn’t refrain from touching yourself. The more you thought of his eggs in you, the more wet and aching you became, god you even called out his name. 

He probably thought you needed him. Well that was true, but he probably didn’t expect the sight he found upon racing to your rescue, literally laying and sprawled open in front of him and touching yourself with abandonment. Ilya faltered, giving a surprised squawk as he wrapped his wings around himself. He was shuffling in embarrassment, already reacting exactly as you thought he would. 

“Ilya…” You spoke before you could stop yourself, but you had to know, you had to make sure. “Do you want to properly mate me? Do you want me to have your babies?”

Ilya remained deathly still, only his eyes widening in reaction to your words. But he didn’t hide or say no, so you shift, turning to prop yourself on all fours and swaying your butt coyly. Again, he was rigid, although this time he took a few tentative steps. He came closer, up until he was directly behind you, and pressed his beak into your spine again. 

A whimper presses past your lips as you arch against him. “Do you want that, Ilya? Because I do. I want to have your babies–”

He made a squawk this time, hands shooting along with his feathers to encapsulate you as his hips nudge your own. His bulge pushed inside of you with little effort, already engorged and writhing- like he was just as desperate as you were. He stretched you perfectly, all the while brushing soft feathers over your skin in ticklish strokes. When his heavy thrusts began, you lost your mind. 

You trembled in Ilya’s grip and pressed back as much as you could every time he pushed into you. His bulge was thick at its base, and it made you feel so full as he sheathed it. God, you could already imagine the feeling of his eggs in you, and the upcoming time when you would lay them was more erotic than it should have been. 

“Gods- gods Ilya– yes! Please cum in me- make me pregnant- gods I want you…”

At your words, Ilya’s movements grew jerky and rapid. He certainly provided, entire body stiffening and bulge twitching as he emptied his load in you. Although you knew the idea was blasphemous, you swore you could already feel his young ones in you.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just because you're filled with his eggs doesn't mean you can't have a little comforting sex now and then right?

You really had to hand it to birds- being pregnant was a bitch. Then again, you were growing whole eggs inside of you- not a human baby. Bird mothers were truly the toughest mothers out there. You had never swallowed rocks before (mostly because you’re smart enough not to) but you could swear that this is what it would feel like to do so. Every shift and movement you gave jostled them and made your stomach clench harder, tighter, and aching like a bolder in the pit of your gut. Most days you could barely move let alone open the shop.

So you didn’t.

Ilya was intensely comforting, feathers puffed up and much more affectionate than you’ve ever seen him. When the cramps got bad, he snuggled closer, nuzzling chest against your own or sometimes your face to where you could hear the rapid pitter patter of his heart. The snuggles always lasted until the pain slowly subsided, lulled away by his comforting form.

But as the eggs grew bigger, so did your pain. Eventually, even a day of only his hugs and snuggles wasn’t enough to ebb the pain away. Tonight it was at its worse, to the point where even the breaths you took made you ache. You held your stomach loose but protective as you laid naked in bed. The constriction of your own clothes had hurt to where you could barely wear them. Ilya sat awkwardly nearby, having already been told off by you to not touch. Even his sweet, small, soft nudges were too much- too much.

He moved again, dipping down and caressing your bare thigh with the curve of his beak. You feebly smack him away, but he doesn’t move, still leaning against your leg. “Il-Ilya don’t touch– really hurting…”

Ilya still doesn’t move, giving the most hushed of coos as he nudges your thighs apart. Your thighs remained tight, muscles in every inch of your body taut and painful. He continues his nestling, nudging his beak enough to where your legs are finally parted for his head. Before you can swat at him again, the lav of his tongue against your cunt makes you shiver. “Ilya…” This time, his name comes out in a whimper, a welcome to the relief that his tongue gives you. Upon hearing your sweet whines he gives another coo, lapping with more fervor.

He seems to know exactly what he’s doing, tentative to soothing your aching core with sweetened licks to your engorged clitoris. As his licks gain more momentum, faster and more deft, you realize how, even filled with his eggs, you want him to fill you up more. Your hips roll up, following the motions his tongue gives before he pulls away, leaving you whimpering- almost crying. Ilya would never leave you alone like that, and he quickly nuzzled into you, beak nudging under your chin as his hips meet your own, bulge already squirming in tight knots between your thighs. 

“N- Ilya- I- that’ll hurt. Don’t…”

Your warning comes from the fear of the agonizing pain shooting through you again. Yet just as your fears reach their peak, the tip of his bulge probes you and instantly vanishes every fright and previous sting. In fact, it did more. Once torturous pressure now pushed pleasurably in you, eggs shifting deeper and brushing against sensitive bundles of nerves. Every new inch he gives you moves them even deeper, pushing you towards the precipice of a very rapidly approaching climax that you hadn’t even sensed moments before.

“Ilya- Ilya oh my gods. Oh my darling…” Your hands finally clasp tight onto him, fingers digging into his feathers and holding on tight as though to brace yourself. He gives a trill back, beak tilting into your chin in eager nudges whilst his hips move up, bulge slickly delving deeper into you. “That’s so good- darling-”

He gives a sigh, the utterance of what could only be your name just barely audible- but it was more than enough to unravel you completely. You could just about feel the nerves along every inch of skin fray and spark. You barely do a thing to keep yourself in that position, melting into his slightly damp and very warm feathers and oddly pleased by the feeling of his bulge slipping out of you.

This time, the pain doesn’t return for the rest of the night, and you sleep with ease in the soft down of his chest.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally the time has come to lay your eggs. With Ilya's help it should be easy, right?

You can feel how ready they are, the press of firm, rounded shells pressing against the walls of your abdomen. It’s slightly painful, you expected it, you were fine with it, but you were still just a little bit frightened of the actual event. As though sensing your distress, ever so sweet Ilya was at your side one night, feathers brushing every inch of exposed skin he could find as you laid there, whimpering and tear prickling. They were pushing, begging to be let out, and you knew it was no use to keep them in.

He didn’t even question you as you shimmied out of your clothing, shoving a pillow beneath your ass to keep yourself propped up as the press continued to ache in your cunt. Soon, the parting of your lips, the swell of the first (of three) eggs presses past, and you wail at the pain and slight feel of pleasure it gives you. Ilya tilts his head, gaze darting down at the egg that slowly emerges from you- slow but daunting. He comes to your aid, brushing feathers over your goose-prickled thighs and nuzzling you to help ease the agony. By god it helps, so much, especially when the tickles of his feathers brush over your clit and make you feel something other than pain.

“Ilya…” your voice softly squeaks out when his feathers, once again, brush over you in just the right way. His beak perks up, and he chirps in question. The question is answered as one of your hands drifts down, fingers rubbing in small circles over your engorged clit. “It helps-” Your whimper says a lot to him, and he wants to hear more, so he ducks back down again, this time to lav his long, expertised tongue over your clitoris.

You keen, head tilting back and hands moving down to do something much more important, parting your lips as the first egg continues its press. You help it along, pushing down with your diaphragm until a slick pop and release lets you free. One down and two to go- and if it weren’t for Ilya this might have felt so much worse. He pauses, nudging the egg with his beak into a small cradle of blankets before moving back in, going back to work.

The second one isn’t as painful, your hole already stretched with the first one’s exit. That being said, you still whimper and whine, pressing down immediately with your diaphragm to let the egg pass. His tongue works over you, saliva dripping down over your clit and your opening, letting the glide of this egg’s descent even easier. And not just easier- it’s pleasurable. From the stretch to the satisfaction of release and even the slick pop, it all adds up, like the perfect combination to deluded and somewhat sick fantasies. You can’t be the only person who enjoys this, right? Certainly not.

“Ilya- oh Ilya…” You gasp out as the second egg finally pops free, your third and final one already picking up where the last one left off, tickling at the edges of your wet and quivering pussy. The once fullness of your abdomen is now fill with the tickles and butterflies of arousal, and it makes you grab out onto feathered shoulders to gather yourself. “Please- please faster. Ilya, I need you.”

More than ever- you would like to add.

And Ilya never teased, nudging in close as he ran his tongue in vibrant, quick patterns over your engorged clit. You whimper loud, bucking hard against his beak as the last egg presses slow, easing out of you with the flutter of your lips. You can feel your orgasm crawling so close, just barely cresting the edge of it. 

At its thick center, you whimper, and it only took a lingering lav of Ilya’s tongue to finally shove you over- the rest of the egg popping out with a slick noise as your orgasm flushed through you. 

You’re left with relief of the pain and post orgasm tingles, all while Ilya nestles the eggs into a pile of blankets. He, in time, snuggles up beside you, beak nudging under your jaw and cooing with encouragement. With your fingers buried in his feathers, you realized how desperately you wanted to feel that again. 

In time(and as little as possible), you hoped you’d be carrying his brood again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilya tries his hand at feeding your newly hatched babies.

You wondered, at first, why the babies would not make as many sounds near you. You had three in total, and all of them held their tongue of chirps or peeps. You know it isn’t because they hate or are scared of you- otherwise they wouldn’t snuggle so close at night. Then again, their sounds for papa were for a very good reason. 

He was recognizable, a thing that said ‘hey, we belong here with this feathery guy’, and your heart squeezed in your chest every time they perked up and looked at him adoringly. Whenever he climbed into their nest, their peeping grew loud, near to the point of obnoxiousness, but you always loved it. By god- did Ilya love it too. 

He always greeted each one with coos and tweets, affectionately nuzzling into their soft pudgy bodies. They liked to climb, sometimes hopping onto his shoulders as he hunched beside you, tucking in for the night. 

Ilya did that now, fluffing up his feathers like a fuzzy coat and letting them climb and plop over him. It reminded you somewhat of little moles poking their heads out of the dirt as you watched the babies disappear under his feathers and then pop back out again. 

“Oh Ilya- you are too cute,” at your words, he perks up a little, tilting his head and giving a soft chirp. You pat his beak and nod to one of the small birds. “You being a dad, it is very cute. Very adorable. You are such a good dad…”

Ilya looks you over with a purely loving gaze, tilting his head this way and that while one of the babies plops out, landing on a folded blanket and peeping at both of you. As though synchronized, the other two jump out, collecting in a small pile right before you. 

When Ilya shifts, they start chirping, hopping on their little feet. He leans over them, nudging his beak against each one of them as a little greeting. Their peeps reign supreme, getting louder the more he hangs over them. Before you can even smile fondly, Ilya bobs his head and- vomits. 

“Never mind, it’s not cute anymore…” You grimaced, only barely turning your head at the sight of the babies eating. It was a mix of amazing and disgusting and you just couldn’t handle actually watching. 

He looks back up, cooing questioningly at you, only for you to pat his beak again and whisper a cute ‘I love you’ under your breath. 

A bird’s gotta do what a bird’s gotta do, after all.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A picnic time with Ilya and the babies~

A part of you wondered that if Ilya spoke more if he would call you a worry wort. You really couldn’t help it though, and you were sure that he wouldn’t blame you, with three rambunctious ones literally climbing and clambering around. The forest was a safe place, you tried to tell yourself. Some of the friendliest monsters lived here, and you weren’t even that far away from Muriel’s house- a known protector or the monsters around here. 

Yet here you were, scolding one of the kids as she tried to run too far from view. “At least stay where I can see you, okay?” You told her, letting her get away with only a brisk nod and much calmer walking. Ilya’s soft chirps bring you back and you give a soft sigh. “I’m just worried- she’s very adventurous you know. Oh they all are though…”

You can see the hint of a smile coming from him to which you playfully bump him with your hip and finally settle down beside one thick trunk tree. A louder caw from Ilya already has the children running back, all three tumbling on one another to gather around you as you started pulling out lunch. Two of them preferred similar to their father, a mixture of nuts and berries, and the youngest was the picky one. 

So you set out one container of the nut mixture and, for the picky one, you’ve chopped up cabbage and lettuce for her. A part of you wonders if maybe she doesn’t like the taste or maybe it’s the texture of the harder piece. Maybe you could try chopping them up for her…

Whilst they ate, Ilya seemed more interested in you, gently preening into your hair and playing with your fingers. Between your giggles you give him sparse kisses, some landing on his shoulders, others landing on his beak, and sometimes he meets one head on with just the tip of his beak and mimics a soft smooching noise. Whenever that happens, the biggest of your brood makes an indignant noise and throws a grape at one of the two of you. 

All three seem to agree that they were done at the same point and, again, are running about between the trees. At least they obeyed your word and stayed within eyesight of you. Whilst they played, you relaxed against the tree and threaded your fingers through your mate’s feathers. The flutter of his chest makes you shift, and you hear then-

“I love you.” His voice comes out in a croak with the effort of coming out genuine. He had the tendency to whistle it to you, either during playful banter or more rolling in the sheets, but hearing it now is so much more different. 

You shift and look up at him, a tired smile on your features. “I love you too-” Oh his smile back is glorious, relaxed and dripping in sweetness that you’d find comparable to honey. It felt perfect then, being shrouded beneath the tree with your feathery mate and huddled against his warm chest. The grass was in perfect bloom and the sun poked through the branches just enough, tree rustling with the warm spring air. Then of course, the icing on the cake was the sound of your brood playing just nearby, chirping and laughing with child-like wonder. 

With Ilya by your side, you were sure to give them everything they could ever need and whatever they could want in life. Although- you might have to stop that at too much candy.


End file.
